Until It Dies
by Kay the Cricketed
Summary: Sometimes, pain and fear can lead to revelations you never expected... (SLASH, C/J, taking place *before* "Conversations", during Book 6, spoilers.)


"Until It Dies"   
  
By Kay   
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Everworld, or any of the characters in it, I only write fanfiction. ::sweatdrops:: AND I don't get paid for it-- SADNESS. ^^;;   
  
Author's Notes: This is something of a companion to "Conversations", but you don't really HAVE to read it to understand this. They're just set in the same universe, s'all. SLASH involved-- Chris/Jalil, one sided, as usual... ::grins:: And it takes place during a scene in Book #6, "Fear the Fantastic", so SPOILERS for those who haven't read it. Who might not understand, if they haven't. ^^;; Ayiii...   
  
Anyway, ignore the OOC Jalil and bad writing, and I might actually have another okay fic? ::coughs:: Maaaybe. Eh, it has Jalil hugging Christopher, so s'ALLLLL good.   
  
Takes place in end of Book 6, during Ganymede's death. Events are perfectly the same-- but I put Jalil's POV on it at the time... what was he thinking, while Ganymede was screaming, and Christopher panicking?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  
If they leave me before I sign   
My consent to sanctuary on dotted line   
Until it dies, the sun will guide   
When finally I'm forever at your side -- KM, "Poetry In Stasis"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  
It wasn't supposed to happen this way.   
  
I know it's wrong and stupid to think that, like it's going to make everything disappear and come back better, truer to what I want. That doesn't happen, there's only one reality, and we certainly make it. We've shaped it into what it is, nourished it. Every word and action led up to this, to the thing, the moment where everything went completly, totally, *horribly* wrong.   
  
We could have made it, too, that's the real kick in the face. If Dionysus hadn't been a party god, wasn't foolish enough to believe making stuff appear in thin air was totally normal, we could have made it. Gone straight through the city, passed by Ka Anor, got *everyone* *out* *fine*.   
  
But we didn't. And now we were listening to Ganymede's screams echo in our ears.   
  
The space, it was huge, larger than any airport or entertainment area I'd ever been to. Smooth, cool to the touch, yet pulsing with an inner life-- their walls, they seemed just as alive as the trees almost, impossible, but it was all around me. The honeycomb like shape, like insects, the thousands of tunnels and Hetwen travelling through them to the center, here, to join the ranks of sacrifice. More bloodthirsty than even the Aztecs had been in their deprivaty.  
  
I've been in Everworld for a long time, I think, and I'd never want to see this again. The mass of alien insects, chanting, fevered, and even as I was horrified, felt it pulse within *me*, the overwhelming urge to give in to the desire to join. Say the words, Jalil, say the words. But the feeling passed with the screaming. Christ, the screaming.   
  
It was only one person in the huge millions of Hetwen, a single, familiar tall body in the crowd of loud, incoherent chanting. And it was ringing in my ears like a neverending alarm, a haunting siren. Oh man, oh god, the screaming. Ganymede's screaming. Over and over. Wasn't it going to end, why didn't the chanting drown it out? Common sense, a greater sound wave should overlap another, you can't hear a single raindrop in the midst of a downpour.   
  
And I still couldn't stop hearing him scream.   
  
Ka Anor was eating him. I knew that, could feel the horror, the helpless rage at it in my bones, but for some reason, it wouldn't hit me just then. Even though I understood-- all I could think of was something else, anything but *Ganymede*. Way-to-pretty Ganymede, immoral, serious, brave Ganymede. Ganymede who helped us out, getting us to Olympus, the one whom, yeah, made us uncomfortable, only facinated me, was still one of us for a while. I'd wanted to ask him things... things that would never be asked now.   
  
And his screaming was going to drive me insane if I didn't focus on something else. Anything.   
  
As if hearing me, someone, something intervened-- or, no, it was coincidence, but damn it, it was a welcome one-- and I heard someone scream, "NO!"   
  
It hadn't been me. It took me nearly fifteen seconds to realize that it hadn't ripped from *my* lungs, echoing the cry I had rising in my head and deep in my chest. Someone else yelled. Someone else was trying to push me aside, rip past us, get through to...to do something.   
  
Christopher. I blinked, not comprehending, lost in the screaming, wanting nothing more to fall to the ground and whimper and hold myself in as tight a ball as possible. Anything to get away from the inhuman shrieks of pain, anguish, and complete sensation of what being *eaten* alive felt like. Ganymede-- No, no, don't think about that--   
  
I was shoved back, lost in my head, dazed. David, by accident, he did it. Was trying to hold back Christopher from running in, smacking his hand over his mouth to muffle the screams. He didn't let go, but Christopher was fighting. Mad, insane, not thinking-- just blindly struggling to get out of his grip, grabbing with hands at air, biting and stabbing with his fingernails. Trapped. Couldn't get out.   
  
Nearly passing out from the audible screaming from both Ganymede and Christopher. I couldn't take the screams. Jesus, Ganymede... Chistopher screaming.   
  
I reached up as if to cover my ears, numbly. Didn't. David was yelling at Christopher, then he looked at me wildly, his eyes begging for help. That was something to concentrate on besides the screaming, he needed me to help hold Christopher back away, keep him from doing something insane and suicidal.   
  
Whenever I don't know what to do, or want to ignore something, I always do what comes naturally. Which is-- find something useful to do. When I was ten and Dad wanted me to help him clean the garage, but I hated cleaning the messy structure, I found Mom and helped her with dinner. Something useful to do. Forget what I was supposed to be doing, unnecessary things.   
  
In the midst of Ganymede's torture, I straightened, trembling. Stumbled forward, and reached out for Christopher's fighting body. This was something to do-- keep him from what would be death. And if I'd actually let myself think about it, the very idea of Christopher's death scared me somewhere deep inside, at the root of what I couldn't admit to myself-- I was feeling things for him that I shouldn't.   
  
They were ideas, only flashes of thought inside my innermost conscience, of what I was beginning to feel for him. Impossible, traitorous things. Not logical, but almost growing to the point where reason didn't matter so much in relation to them. Things that made me cringe, deny it all, even though I knew it was truth.   
  
My arms closed around him.   
  
I barely remembered getting over there, but then I was right behind him, where David was clutching his mouth and top left shoulder. Christopher was still struggling frantically, trying to scream, blocked by the palm of our leader's hand. I could relate-- I wanted to scream... didn't. Couldn't.   
  
Ganymede was *still* screaming. How was that possible? I wondered, at the same time automatically reaching out, and grabbing Christopher's torso to keep him in place. How could he scream for so long? Was it an instinctive, last minute survival instinct, even through the mind-numbing pain, to keep screaming? Even though there was no one there to save him in the end? Was it a brain function, keep screaming, keep calling uselessly?   
  
Christopher was stronger than me, taller. But with David's help, we kept him there, all of us, trying to block out the screams and remember who we were. My thin arms wrapped around Christopher from behind, pinned his arms down to his sides, tightened until they hurt and I had to whimper.   
  
He wasn't fighting so much now, still listlessly trying to jerk away, run free, but this time his feet only shuffled, never moving. I didn't let go. Couldn't now, didn't want to remember the fact that the cries beyond us were fading in my mind, as long as I had something to do.   
  
I was pressed tightly against his back, still hugging him to me, keeping him rooted there in the ground. Away from death, the insane chanting and sounds of eating. Nearly lost myself, but now my mind was already clearing from the horror-- my head coming back to me. Was that a good thing, or something shameful, that I was recovering so fast, while Christopher stared numbly and still struggled helplessly?   
  
He couldn't do anything. He should know that. But he still tried.  
  
Maybe that's why I...   
  
"Hail Mary," April was saying quietly, still holding her hand over Christopher's eyes. "Hail Mary."   
  
More of my rational mind came back then, weakly pushing through the fog of pain and terror that filled my head moments before. There was no one to pray to really, there wasn't a God or a Mary, although maybe stories were based on a real woman. I didn't believe in any of it, couldn't make myself. But Christopher was slowly resting, stopping his mad resistance, and if it helped him, I wouldn't say anything.   
  
Hail Mary, for Christopher. For me, I came back to myself from the feel of my arms around him. My own Hail Mary.  
  
Christopher... he's warm, for someone who acts so much like a jerk. Heat pressed into my forehead, where I'd rested it on his back-- he's taller than even me, the highest of us all. Wider, too, I'm a lot thinner, and my arms felt stretched from wrapping around him so tightly. They'd be sore when I let go, though not for very long, and part of me was reluctant to even think of "letting go". It'd most likely be the first and only time I got this chance, the moment that maybe I'd understand *why* I wanted to be near him in the first place.   
  
Hold Christopher back, a great excuse. Something to do. Both.   
  
Later, if he recovered his senses, he might wonder why I held on for so long. He wouldn't think what was the truth-- he'd believe it was because I didn't trust him enough to let him free that early. If he even considered why. He wouldn't see that I couldn't stand to let him go yet-- not with Ganymede's screams fading, and my hands still shaking, my lip bit so hard that blood was tasting like iron inside my mouth. He wouldn't guess that I wanted to hold onto him, even though I hated myself for it, to make myself stronger, to rely on *him* just as much as I was helping to hold him back.   
  
I had to let go here soon. He was almost limp, the screams were almost gone. I'd barely noticed when they left-- but it was obvious from Christopher's suddenly still body, that he did.   
  
April uncovered his eyes. I sucked in a tight, funny breath and closed my eyes briefly, arms still trembling slightly. Later, I'd only hope no one noticed the state *I* was in.   
  
David waited a few minutes, which were like hours trickling through a glass pipe, before releasing Christopher and uncovering his mouth. I forced myself to loosen my grip, knew I had to let go...   
  
In those moments, if felt like I'd been holding onto him for an eternity. As though a spell of calm had radiated around me, gently protecting me, like a shield against my own mind's protests-- and I think that was when it hit me finally, openly and without resistance, what exactly was happening inside of me that I couldn't stand.   
  
The secret that had been growing inside, warm but resisted, ever since we'd gone from Hel, went on the Fairy Road, maybe even *before* then. Maybe from the moment we came to Everworld, though it seemed nearly impossible.   
  
A secret, a shame, a wish. Impossible. I finally understood-- and hated it.   
  
David let go. I released my hold five second later, and in that time, those thoughts ran through my head. But I managed to let go and come back to my rational, in control mind. Let go of Christopher, watched as he didn't bother to try pulling himself together, felt a detachment that I had before, but never to such extremes. Didn't help him up.   
  
I felt another part of me closing off-- holding back the shock I felt at the realization that had come to me. Detached myself from it all, removed myself, kept everything an arm's length away.   
  
Later, after it had all passed, I never told even myself what I'd discovered.   
  
Except to Etain, once, after a long exhausting wait that sapped out my strength, when we began our friendship. I told her the truth I couldn't admit to my own mind and heart.   
  
That maybe, just maybe, and yes, yes I felt something far beyond friendship for Christopher. Something that was strong and insistant, which made me dream at night of things I'd never tell anyone. It made me dislike him more, but at the same time, made me give into him in the end. And as much as I hated it, it was something that made me feel human and alive, real and focused in an entirely different way.   
  
I knew I wouldn't let him go-- because I loved him.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  
THE END: o.o Wow. Okay. Um. Eheheh... ^^;; I need to stop writing poor Jalil slash angst fics! And get my Conversations sequel in, really. It's going to be pretty long-- the entire sequel from the one fic, is actually going to be an entire fic of lots of chapters, because it takes a lot of tiiiime. Eheh... but the prelude and chapter one is almost done! ^____^ Happiness. THIS was just something I wrote in Computer class out of boredom. Oh well. Enjooy!!! :) Thank you for all the wonderful reviews to my fanfics! You're soooo nice to me! ::glomps:: Take caaare. ^_^ 


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